


Girl With The Broken Smile

by muggleindenial28



Category: Fringe
Genre: Birthday Presents, Cards, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Romance, Romantic Friendship, playlists, step-father
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muggleindenial28/pseuds/muggleindenial28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cards came every year without fail, what if someone else came as well.  Somewhat of a subplot/expansion/pre-qule to my other story "There Are Many Things That I Would Like to Say to You", you don't have to have read it for this to make sense.  Although, you can if you'd like.  This takes place sometime during season 2 but before "Jacksonville".  Please read and review:)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So this is basically an expansion or subplot of my other fic “There Are Many Things That I Would Like to Say to You”. You don’t need to have read it for this story to make sense, but I encourage you to. It takes place sometime in season 2 but before “Jacksonville”. I do not own Fringe, the song “Wonderwall” or the song “She Will Be Loved”.  
> Enjoy!

Most people look forward to their birthdays every year.  Most, but not Olivia.  All of the color drained from her face as she picked up the envelope off of the floor. 

It came.

The bastard had slid it under the door, just like last year and the year before that.  Every bone in her body told her to just forget about it.  _Don’t open it.  Throw it away.  Forget about it._   It was the same mantra she would silently chant to herself when her annual unmarked letters would appear.  Yet, just like every year, she couldn’t bring herself to take even the slightest step towards the trash bin.  Taking a deep breath, she shakily broke the seal of the crisp envelope and removed a card.

_Missing You_

That was it.  No signature.  No personal message.  No way to determine the source of the haunting note.  However, Olivia knew exactly where it came from.  All the card gave her was the same conformation like it had for the past twenty years; her stepfather was still out there.

Still alive.

Still watching.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

She felt sick to her stomach so naturally she reached for a glass and the bottle of bourbon that she kept on the top self of her liquor cabinet.  She poured the amber liquid into a tumbler and brought the drink to her lips.  She swallowed the whole thing in one toss, feeling the burn travel all the way down to her belly.

_Knock.  Knock.  Knock._

The sound made her jump, causing the glass in her hand to shatter on the floor of her kitchen. 

“Shit!” Olivia swore as reached for her gun that was thankfully still strapped to her belt.

_Knock.  Knock.  Knock._

“Livia, you there?” A familiar voice called.  Olivia let out the breath she had been holding and peered through the peephole. 

Peter.  Nobody else, just Peter.  She unclicked the latch and opened the door.

“Hey,” She greeted, flashing a small smile.

“Hey, you didn’t come by the lab today.”  Peter replied.  

“Yeah, I got swamped with meetings all day, and then Broyles had me go to a seminar in New York-”

“Relax, you don’t need to explain.”  He chuckled, effectively cutting her off mid-sentence.  “I just didn’t have a chance to give you these.”  He said, holding up a large brown paper bag.

“What’s in it?” She inquired, raising one brow.

“I don’t know why don’t you let me in and find out?”  Peter suggested, poorly feigning ignorance… smart ass.

Olivia held the door open and let him in.  He walked towards the living room, passing the kitchen on the way and spotting the mess of glass still scattered across the tile.

“What happened in there?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, you just startled me when you knocked, no big deal.”  She brushed off, walking into the scene of the shattered shards. 

“You want any help cleaning up?”

“Nah, I’ll get it.  Have you eaten yet?  If not, I was going to order in and you’re welcome to stay.”

“Sure, I’ve got nowhere to be.  Menus are…?”

“Coffee table, second drawer on the right.”  She supplied.

“Thanks!”

She grabbed the broom and dust pan and once she was sure that all the glass had been cleared, she left the kitchen.  Plopping down on the sofa next to Peter, she handed him one of the beers she had snatched on the way.  He nodded in gratitude as he hung up the phone.

“What are we eating?” She asked.

“ _Damiano’s_ , that okay?”

“Excellent!  So can I open my gifts now?”

“Yes, but only if you say the magic word.”  He teased causing her to swat his arm playfully.  He faked outrage for a moment before handing the bag over to her, leaning back to watch her invade its contents.

“Happy birthday, Olivia.”  He said.

She took out three items; a tin of home-made cookies from Astrid (which she and Peter crack open instantly) and a book on theoretical physics from Walter (useless but still thoughtful).  She withdraws Peter’s gift from the bag last; a thin square, wrapped in newspaper with a red bow on top.

“Newspaper, really?” Olivia gave him a skeptical look.

“Oh shut up, it’s what I had on hand.”  He said as he sipped from his beer.  She removed the so-called “wrapping paper”, revealing a CD.

“I made you a playlist,” Peter said.

“Trust me you’ll like it?”  She asked, reading the hand written label.

“Just thought I’d add that extra little touch.  Besides, I honestly do think you will like it.”  He said, shooting her a charming smile.

“Is that so?  What makes you so sure?” She asked playfully, well, playful for her.

“Because, believe it or not,” he teased “After a year of working together, I know you and I know how your mind works.  More to the point, I know your music taste.  Further, I know that currently it is seriously lacking.”

“I have told you countless times that you are more than welcome to bring your own music when we’re in a car together.”  She said, recalling all of the times he had lightly given her shit about it.

“And I’ve told you that you need to get your own music and not constantly mooch off of mine.”  He countered.

“This isn’t mooching?” She asked sarcastically.

“I prefer to call this guidance,” He smirked.

“In all honesty, thank you.  I actually really do like it, it’s a nice gift.” She said getting up to pop the disc into her stereo.  Acoustic strumming and the opening lyrics of Oasis’s _Wonderwall_ filled the silence in the living room.

_Today is gonna be the day_

_That they're gonna throw it back to you_

_By now you should've somehow_

_Realized what you gotta do_

_I don't believe that anybody_

_Feels the way I do about you now_

“I love this song,” She marveled at his accuracy of her taste in music.

“Told you,” He said smugly.

At that moment, a knock sounded on her door, signaling the arrival of the pizza man.  Naturally Peter had insisted on paying, using her birthday as an excuse.  They brought the steaming box into the living room and resumed their positions on the sofa.  They ate, drank, and laughed as they told horror stories of exes past.  Just like any other night of hanging out for the two of them.

“Did it come today?” Peter asked in a serious voice after conversation had died down for a while.  Olivia only nodded, feeling the nausea creep back into her stomach. 

“Livia-”

“Don’t,”

“I’m serious; you need to go to the Bureau about this.”  He said.

“And tell them what?  To follow a long cold trail because one of their agents is being left creepy cards once a year for the past twenty?  If he doesn’t want to be found then he won’t be.  Peter, I’ve you this.”  She snapped.

“And what if next year, he does more than leave you a creepy card?  What then?”  He asked desperately, searching her green eyes for an answer.  Olivia hunched forward and dropped her gaze to her lap, Peter was right.  Maybe next year the man that had stalked her for years would resurface, this time in person.  And that terrified her.

Peter leaned over and placed a gentle hand on her back, moving it in comforting circles.  Olivia leaned ever so slightly into his touch, encouraging him to continue the repetitive motion. 

“I’m scared,” She whispered.

“C’mre,” He murmured, pulling her into his arms.  Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that.  It seemed like hours later when he finally spoke again.

“Do you want me to stay?”

She shrugged but didn’t say a word.  He sighed and kissed her blonde hair.

“I’m scared too,” He murmured after a moment, causing her to look up at him.

“Peter,”

“I’m honestly terrified that he’s going to show up next year or the year after and…”  He trailed off, tearing his blue eyes away from her face.  He took a deep breath before continuing.

“You’re my best friend, Liv.  And I swear to God if that sociopathic bastard ever lays a finger on you again-” She pressed a finger to his lips, halting his speech.

“Shhh, I don’t want to think about him right now.  He’s not here and he hasn’t given any indication he will show up in person next year.  If history repeats itself then he won’t,” She said, trying to seem confident in her answer… Even though they both knew that she wasn’t.

Peter knew that at this point he was beating a dead horse.  Getting her to admit that she was scared was huge, but as always, when he’d tried to get her to really open up about her fear, she’d disregarded it.  Acting as if he was the victim here, not her.  Vulnerability was a trait she tried to avoid at all costs, as far as anyone knew she was invincible.  No, she wasn’t invincible, but she’d pretended to be for so long.  Who was he to stop her?

“Sorry, I ruined your night. I’m an ass.”  He sighed, reluctantly pulling away from her warm embrace.

“You are, but that’s alright, you’re _my_ ass.”  She said, then turning beet red once she’d realized her unfortunate phrasing.

“Sorry, that came out wrong! I didn’t mean it like- shit!” Olivia sputtered nervously, burying her face in her hands.

“You’re fine. I know what you meant.  You just want my body!” Peter teased as he pulled her hand from her face.  She swatted his hand away, causing him to laugh harder.  She joined in and soon they were laughing hysterically, both not really sure why.  They laughed until they were sore sided and out of breath. 

Olivia and Peter locked eyes once they registered how close they had become on the couch.  Neither of them uttered a word while they continued to stare at each other, the only sound in the living room coming from the stereo still playing Peter’s playlist. 

 

_“I don’t mind spending every day_

_Out on your corner in the pouring rain_

_Look for the girl with the broken smile_

_Ask her if she wants to stay a while_

_And she will be loved”_

“Good song,” She remarked, not moving an inch.

“I know,” He replied, leaning in a little closer.  Unfortunately, right at that moment his phone rang.  He let out a frustrated sigh and pulled away from her.

“Peter Bishop,” he answered stoically.

Sure enough, it had been Walter.  Apparently, the Bishop household was entirely out of Oreos and it was to the utmost importance that Peter buy some immediately.  He helped her clean up and put away left overs, insisting that she shouldn’t have pick up his mess on her birthday.  Eventually they were outside of his car, reluctantly saying their goodbyes.

“Well, I hope despite the obvious, you had a good birthday,”

“I actually did have a nice time tonight, thanks for coming over.”

“Anytime, Livia.”

“Peter?” Olivia called just before he sat down in the car.

“Yeah?”

“Am I really your best friend?” she asked, remembering what he had said earlier that evening.

“Huh, I guess you are.  Happy birthday, Olivia.”

“Good night, Peter.”

And with that he drove away.  Olivia walked back up to her apartment, alone with her thoughts.  _Best friend_ , she pondered.  She couldn’t remember the last time someone had referred to her as such.  She liked it, she decided, it had a nice ring to it.  However, there was something about the phrasing that didn’t feel quite right.  And for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why.  Probably just not used to it, she mused.

She walked through the door, spying the card that was still on the counter.  Without a second thought, Olivia tossed it in the trash.  On her way to her bedroom, she grabbed the CD out of the stereo and popped it into the player built into her alarm clock.  Pressing play and turning the volume to a semi-soft level, she got ready for bed.

She slept soundly on her birthday for the first time in twenty years. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First off, thank you all for reading and maybe this time I'll get a review, haha. Also I’m sorry about the delay, I was just in a show and so I really did not have ANY time!  
> Enjoy!

Unable to fall asleep, Peter found himself at the hotel bar in need of a drink.  He would come down here more often than he would really care to admit, but at least he would be alone… normally.  However, tonight was different, there was another man sitting at the bar.  It wasn’t too out of the ordinary, Peter supposed.  Occasionally, there would be another lost soul nursing a half-warm drink, and tonight must have been one of those nights.  He seated himself a few stools away from the stranger, not really in the talking mood.

“What can I get ya?” The bartender, Nick as his name tag identified, asked in a routine voice.

“Dealer’s choice,” Peter said, not giving a shit either way.  He had too much on his mind from his night with Olivia.

 It had been awkward tonight, horribly and wonderfully awkward.  He knew that at this point he was playing a dangerous game here.  Yet as much as he tried to convince himself that it was a bad idea, he couldn’t help it.  Teasing her, flirting with her, _holding her_ ; it felt too damn good. And that was why he was starting to panic.  Peter wasn’t really sure when it started, these feelings.  He just knew that he’d become more aware of them since her accident.  He remembered seeing her in that hospital bed, so still and pale.  So lifeless.  When the doctor told him that there was nothing more they could do for her had easily been one of the worst nights of his life.  He hadn’t shed a tear since his mother had died, and that night it had been all he could do to not sob over her broken body.  That was when he knew he for sure felt something for her, whether it was a childish crush or something more…  That was the night that he accepted what he’d been denying for almost a year.

He was falling in love with Olivia Dunham.

“Bit risky, don’t you think?” A gruff voice asked, shattering him out of his questionable thoughts of his best friend and partner.

“Excuse me?” Peter asked, turning towards his bar mate.

“Letting the bartender pick your poison?”

“What can I say, I trust his judgment.”

“Eh, well more power to you, I guess.”

Peter only nodded, hoping the forced conversation was over.

“Chris,” The man held out his hand towards him.

“Peter,” He said as he shook the outstretched hand with his own.  Chris was an older man- although younger than Walter- probably in his mid to late fifties.  He had balding mousy brown hair with more than a few streaks of grey.  He was also wearing glasses that were partially obscuring his squinty brown eyes.  He was in decent shape for his age, Peter decided.

“So tell me, Peter. Where are you from?”  Chris asked.

“Well, I grew up here in Boston but I’ve lived almost everywhere.  What about you?”

“Florida originally, although I haven’t been in a long time.”

“Oh? What brings you to Boston?”

“Visiting my daughter, it was her birthday today, well yesterday now.” He said, glancing at his watch.

“And you’re not staying with her?”

“No, I’m surprising her actually.  We haven’t seen each other in a while you see,”

“Hmm, well I hope all goes well with her,” Peter said, taking a sip of his drink.

“She’s about your age, give or take a year,” Chris went on, clearly not done talking.

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes, pretty too.  Long blonde hair, green eyes, she’s a knock out.” He said with a wink that made Peter feel uneasy.  He couldn’t explain it but there was something about this man that bothered him, something about the way he was smirking that wasn’t quite right. 

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve got an early day tomorrow,” Peter said as he fished out his wallet.

“Ah come on, have a drink with me,”

“Sorry, but I really should-”

“Sit down.” Chris said, more forceful this time.

“Why should I?”

“I wasn’t done talking about my daughter.  You really want to get away from me that bad?  I thought we were friends, Peter.” He said.

Ah what the hell, Peter thought.  Talking to this guy was admittedly more bearable than being up in that cramped hotel room with Walter.  Despite their rekindled relationship, Peter didn’t think he could handle his naked and drugged father right now.  He sat back down on the barstool and nodded for Chris to continue.

“Atta boy, now where was I?  Ah yes, my daughter.” He cleared his throat before continuing. 

“She was always small for her age as a kid, a bit too lanky, but damn was she pretty.  Prettier than her sister, even her mom.   But you already figured that out haven’t ya?”

It was about then that Peter started to feel very uncomfortable.  He could understand fatherly pride, he really could.  However, he got the impression that this wasn’t what that was.

“She’s got these eyes that could turn hot water into ice if she looked at in in the right way.  And believe me, I was on the other end of that gaze more times than I can count.  Something she must’ve gotten from her father, cuz she sure as hell didn’t get it from her miserable excuse for a mother.” Chris chuckled darkly at Peter’s expression.

“I didn’t mention she is my step-daughter, did I? Oops,”

At that Peter froze as the cogs in his mind clicked together with the realization.

_The Stepfather._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Couldn’t resist the cliff hanger. Please make sure to leave a review (even if you hated it). Also if you have any suggestions on where to go from here, I love to hear them because unfortunately I’ve hit a rather nasty bout of writers block. Thanks for reading!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! I cannot even express how happy and overwhelmed I was with all of the positive reviews, follows, and favorites. This totally got my writing juices flowing and I was able to bang out this chapter. I will warn you that it’s darker and a more controversial than anything that I’ve written before. So this is my warning that this chapter will be disturbing in nature and if you do not feel comfortable reading it, this is your chance to run. If you are choosing to continue reading, please know how aware I am that this is a VERY sensitive topic. Also it might be slightly off canon although it was never really confirmed or denied in the show, I decided to take some creative liberty here. I do not own Fringe nor do I own “The Cat in the Hat” (just a copy of it from 1,000 years ago). I hope you like it!  
> Enjoy!

_Jacksonville Florida, 1988_

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.  Alright Olivia, you got this.  Three of spades,” She whispered to the card she had pulled from the pile now forming on the floor.  She took a deep breath and flipped it over.

“Yes!”  Olivia regaled in her card counting prowess.  This was the twelfth (soon to be thirteenth) time in a row that her guess had been correct.  Here she was at nine years old and nearly an expert at counting cards.  Doctor Walter would joke that she could make a fortune in Vegas one day whenever he would catch her doing it at the daycare center.  It used to drive Nick up a wall, however. 

_Nick._

Occasionally, Olivia would think about him.  It had to have been at least two years she last saw that frightened little boy with blond hair.  He moved to New York after the fire at the daycare center, and they had lost touch.  She wondered how he was every once in a while.

“Nine, ten, eleven, twelve,” She numbered off again, stopping abruptly when she heard the creaky signature of her old bedroom door opening.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account, Princess,” The towering figure leered at her and Olivia bit back a shudder, God she hated that nick-name.  Her stomach dropped when the sharp smell assaulted her nose. 

He had been drinking again.

“Hello sir,” Olivia said calmly.

“Now how many times have I told you to call me daddy?”  He asked, steeping into her room, encroaching on her domain. 

You’re not my daddy, she wanted to scream. 

“Sorry,”

“Watcha doin?”

Olivia shrugged.

“Well your mom took Rachel to the doctor about that runny nose o’ hers.  So it’s just going to be you and me for a while.”

She shrugged again.

“How about we read a book together? You know how much I love to hear you read.”

“Okay,” She said.  Olivia got up from her spot on the floor and walked over to her book shelf and reached for the shortest story.

“Come sit next to me,” He said, patting the space next to him on her bed.

She hesitated.

“I said come here, Olivia.”  He said, more forcefully this time.  At this point she knew trying to resist would be useless.  It would be better to just do what he said and be uncomfortable rather than disobeying and ending up with a black eye and a broken wrist.

“Atta girl,” He said, pulling her closer to him once she sat down.

 She tried not to flitch.

 _“The sun did not shine.  It was too wet to play.  So we sat in the house.  All that cold, cold, wet day.”_   She began.  As she read on, he started to play with her long blonde hair, making the even tone of her voice to become slightly unsteady.

 _“The end,”_ She concluded, closing the book.

“Great job, Princess,” He whispered, kissing the side of her head.  If he felt her stiffen, he ignored it.

“You know, Olivia, you’re a very pretty girl.”  He crooned in her ear and continued stoking her hair.  She wished he would stop, she hated when he got like this.  When he wasn’t hitting her or her mom (thankfully never Rachel), he was always very touchy with her.  And as she had gotten older, he became more prone to touch her.  She could already tell by the smell of him, it was going to be bad tonight.

The thought made Olivia want to vomit.

“Prettiest girl in your class,” He kissed the top of her head.

“Prettier than your sister,” He kissed her cheek, his goatee scratching her.

“Hell, every day you’re even getting prettier than your mom,” He whispered into her neck before planting a lingering kiss there.

“What’s a matter?  You’re shaking.”  He asked in a falsely gentle voice as he moved the hand that wasn’t tangled in her hair down to her thigh.

“Please stop,” Olivia said through clenched teeth.

“There ain’t nothing wrong, Princess.”  He said as his hand inched higher up her leg.   Higher than the last time he did it.

“I said stop!”  She snapped, brushing his hand away.

“And I’ve told you before to relax and shut your mouth,” He growled and pushed her down so that her back was now against the mattress.  He straddled her and pinned both of her skinny arms in one hand.  She was trapped.

“No, no-” 

He slapped her.

“Now, Olivia I promise you that we will have a lot more fun if you stop squirming and just relax.” He said in a matter of fact voice into her ear, nibbling it a bit before moving on to her neck.  His free hand creeping between her legs and began working at the snap of her corduroys once he reached his destination.  It was about then when Olivia started crying.

“Shhh, shh, just relax, Princess,” He murmured before unzipping the fly of her pants and slipping a hand inside.  However before he could go any further, the sound of the front door opening made him freeze.  He jumped off of her and yanked her up by the arm.

“Zip up your pants and stop crying,” He growled at her.  She obeyed and glared at him with tear soaked eyes, full of hatred.  He had never gone that far before, and had her mom not come home, he would’ve gone a lot further.

“Not a word or I swear to God, you little bitch, you are going to get it.”  He warned and then exiting the bedroom.  Leaving Olivia to stare daggers at the door, reflecting on what had just happened.  The sound of her mother’s voice outside talking to one of the neighbors brought her back down to Earth.

“Marilyn, get your ass over here!”  She heard her stepfather yell.

“Chris, what’s wrong?  Rachel, honey, go see what Livy’s doing.”

As if it wasn’t enough to touch her, he had to go and start on her mom now.  Olivia jumped when Rachel, all of five years old, came stumbling into the bedroom, looking confused.  Olivia did her best to distract Rachel to the ever increasing volume of the argument going on in the kitchen.  By the sound of it, her mom had been talking to Mr. Greyson outside, and once again Chris had gotten the wrong idea.  It always started like this and before long, the sounds of fists hitting flesh penetrated the thin walls of the house.

“Please, honey, nothing is going on with him!” 

“DON’T GIVE ME THAT SHIT!”

_Slap._

“NOW I’M GOING TO ASK YOU AGAIN, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN FUCKING HIM?”

_Smack._

“I swear nothing is happening! PLEASE!”

“YOU’RE LYING!”

_Thud._

The sound of her mother’s body smacking against the ground made Olivia spring into action.  She got to her feet and ushered Rachel to hide under the bed.

“Rach, I need you to stay right her and be very quiet.  Don’t move and don’t come out until I come and get you alright?”

Rachel nodded.

“I love you,” Olivia whispered and kissed her sister on the forehead just before pushing her under.  Carefully, she left the room without making a sound and crept down the stairs.  Once she reached the bottom, she took a deep breath and braced herself for the horrific scene taking place in the kitchen.  Sure enough, there Marilyn was, cowering against cabinet doors, clutching her very bloody nose.  It was all Olivia could do not to cry.

“Please, Chris, no.  Please don’t go!”  She sobbed, reaching for his arm.

“I told you, Marilyn, I am done!  You hear me, you slut?  I’m fucking done!  Have a nice life!” And with that he turned and stormed out of the kitchen.  Thankfully, Olivia had been able to duck behind the sofa before he could spot her.  The front door slammed shut and a few seconds the car started.

He was gone. 

Olivia ran to her hysterical mother who was huddled in a heap on the kitchen tile.  She tried to help her, comfort her, but all Marilyn could do was mutter “no” a thousand times and cry.  All that she could focus of was that her husband had left her.  And that was just too much for her to handle.  Olivia tried in vain to calm her down.

“Mom, listen to me.  It’s going to be alright, he’s gone.  He can’t hurt us anymore.  He can’t-” Her soothing words were cut short by the sound of the car door slamming shut. 

No. No. No. No. No. No.

Olivia didn’t think twice of her next move.  She sprinted from the broken woman in the kitchen to the master bedroom.  Stopping once she reached the oak nightstand on the left side of the bed, riffling through all of the drawers.

“Come on, come on, where is it?” She chanted to herself until her hand come into contact with a cold metal handle.  She found it.  Wrapping her hand around the gun, she ran down the stairs and stood at an A frame in front of the huge wooden door, waiting for it to open and reveal her target.  All she could hear was the blood pumping a mile a minute in her ear.

Six.

Five.

Four.

She pointed the gun straight forward.

Three.

Two.

One.

The door burst open.

Olivia fired.

Once, twice, and then he hit the floor. 

Marilyn screamed.

Olivia dropped the gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this was my first time ever writing a flashback sequence. Hopefully, I will be posting the next chapter soon and won’t keep you waiting for what will happen with Peter and the stepfather. Thank you so much for reading and please make sure to leave a review (even if you hated it). Thank you!


	4. Girl With the Broken Smile Chapter.4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ok, first off I want to apologize for taking forever to post a new chapter, but unfortunately real life hit me and my family really hard about a week after I posted my last chapter. Some very close family friends of ours passed away suddenly and as a result their daughter has moved in with us. The past month and a half have been difficult to say the least. Unfortunately because the tragedy was very violent in nature, it has become incredibly hard to sit down and write this story without thinking about that horrible day. Anyway, that was my spiel. Thank you so much to everyone who has decide to stick with this story, you’re all fabulous! On a lighter note, today is my 18th birthday, I’m now officially an adult! Now without further ado here is chapter 4, I do not own Fringe.  
> Enjoy!

                                                Girl with the Broken Smile Chapter 4

“I didn’t mention she is my step-daughter, did I? Oops,”

At that Peter froze as the cogs in his mind clicked together with the realization.

_The Stepfather._

Right here.

Right now.

 Sitting next to him in this lonely hotel bar, was Olivia’s stepfather.

_Fuck._

It was all Peter could do to not lunge at the sick bastard and beat him to a pulp.  However, instead he smiled cynically and lightly took a sip of his drink.

“No, I’m afraid you failed to mention that.” Peter chuckled darkly after a moment.

“Crazy, the amount of details you forget about when you get old,” Chris remarked, staring at Peter intently.

“Crazy indeed,” Peter said, refusing to break eye contact. 

If someone were to walk upon the scene right at that moment, it would look as if two lonely men at a bar were having just a normal conversation.  Maybe a little more so than average strangers, but normal just the same.  Oh, how incredibly wrong they would be.  Beneath Peter’s calm and collected exterior, his mind was reeling.  He sent up a silent prayer to whomever to thank them for his impeccable conman skills.  He needed to warn Olivia and he needed to do it soon.

“Would you excuse me for a moment?”  

“You leaving already?”

“Nah, I just gotta take a leak,” Peter said as he got up from his stool, he would have to make this quick.

As soon as he was out of sight he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the first number that came to mind, Olivia’s house.

It rang five times until he was greeted by her voice mail.

_“Hi, you’ve reached Olivia Dunham, I can’t come to the phone right now.  Please leave your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as I can.  Beep.”_

Dammit!

“’Livia, its Peter.  Please call me, I really need to talk to you.” He hung up and dialed her cell.  If the house phone hadn’t already woken her up, her cell definitely would.  Peter put the phone back to his ear.

It rang once.

“Come on,” He groaned into the receiver.

It rang twice.                                                                                                    

It had just started to ring for a third time when Peter felt a slight pinch on the back of his neck.

“What the-” He started before he began to get extremely dizzy.

Within seconds the cell phone was wrenched from his shaky grasp and he hit the floor with a thud.

As his muscles went slack, Peter looked up and his sleepy gaze was met with a pair of beady eyes slightly concealed by thick glasses.  He heard was a throaty chuckle and then everything went dark.

                                                                        ***

The first thing Peter noticed when he came to was the smell.  It reeked of piss, shit and something slightly tangy, almost like sweat.  The second thing he registered as he became more aware was that he was blindfolded and tied to the back of a chair with what felt like steel cables.  His throat felt raw and his head was throbbing painfully.  Jesus, what the hell happened?

“Good, you’re up,” A gruff voice said from somewhere behind him. 

Peter jumped and craned his neck toward the noise.

“Listen up, asshole.”  Peter called hoarsely into the darkness.  “I work for the federal government, the FBI as a matter of fact, and holding me here is a felony of the-”

"You honestly think I give a fuck,  _Bishop?"_  

Peter balked, who was this guy?  One of Eddie’s?

“Having a lapse in memory, are we?  I suppose it’s just a reaction to what I gave you, not your fault, should be temporary though.  Let’s see if we can retrieve it,” The voice said and pulled the blindfold from Peter’s face. 

Instantly Peter’s eyes filled with tears as his blurry vision was assaulted by a bright light coming from what looked like a naked bulb overhead.  He tried to focus his gaze as best he could yet was failing miserably.  All he could make out was a fuzzy outline of a person, no, a man.    

“Still having trouble?  I’ll give you a hint, we have a mutual acquaintance.” The man crooned.

“Look, I think you may have the wrong-”

“Long blonde hair, green eyes, and nice tits.  You know _exactly_ who I’m talking about.  From what I understand, you’re partners.  Hell, maybe even a little more.”

Peter tense and his eyes widened in realization as little by little yet all at once, the night came rushing back to him. 

Olivia’s birthday.

Bar.

The stepfather.

Olivia.

Olivia.

_Olivia._

No.

“Gotcha,”

Peter’s head began to whirl; why was the bastard still here?  Did he do this every year?  If not, what had changed?  Even bigger question, what did he want with him?  Why was he being held as a hostage?

“Alright Peter, now that we’re on the same page, let’s chat.”

                                                                        ***

Hours later, Olivia woke from a rather peaceful and dreamless sleep.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept that well, not since she joined Fringe Division at least.  Her feeling of ease was short lived however once she saw the tell-tale blinking blue light flashing from her phone.  Shit, did she sleep through a call?  She quickly grabbed it and relaxed slightly when she realized it was only a text from Peter.

_Liv,_

_I have to go out of town for a little bit.  Don’t worry its nothing major, a friend of mine’s girlfriend kicked him out and he needs help moving into a new place by this weekend.  Also the cell coverage may be a little spotty, so if you try to call me I might not get it.  I’ll see you soon._

While she was happy that there wasn’t a crisis that needed immediate eradication, she couldn’t help but feel a little put out.  As much as she hated to admit it, Peter’s absence for the next few days would be, well, dull.  But, nevertheless, he was only going to be gone for a few days.  She had been just fine without him before he came into her life and that was what she would be for the next few days.

Just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Please remember to leave a review, even if you hated it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi all, happy New Year and happy Valentine’s Day! One of these days, I won’t take more than a month to update. However, I’m now officially a second semester senior and I’m done applying to college so updates will hopefully be more frequent from now on. Thank you all so much for reviewing, favoriting, and following, you have no idea how good it makes me feel to hear all of your lovely feedback As always, I do not own Fringe.  
> Enjoy!

Girl with the Broken Smile Chapter 5

When Walter Bishop woke up that morning, he had absolutely no inkling of how his day was about to go.  It began like any other; getting up at exactly 7:26 with an unbelievable urge to urinate.  It was only after he began preparing breakfast that he realized Peter had yet to get out of bed. 

“Son, are you awake?  I’m making bacon!”

No response, not even a groan.

Odd.

“Peter?”  He called again and walked over to his son’s bed.  It was still made.  Now, that he thought about it, he didn’t hear Peter go to bed last night.  Walter did remember, however, calling to remind his son to pick up some _Oreos_ on his way home from Olivia’s… That was it!  The wave of euphoria that shot through Walter at that moment was simply indescribable. He could scarcely believe it, his son and the beguiling Agent Dunham had finally come to terms with what they’d been denying for a year; their passionate love for each other.

Oh, happy day!

 

Seeing that his son was delightfully indisposed at the moment, Walter needed to find a way to get himself to the lab.  Without a second thought, he picked up the phone and dialed Alistair.  He couldn’t wait to tell her the wonderful news, surely she would be as thrilled as he was.

* * *

 

“So why Peter wasn’t able to take you this morning?”  Astrid asked on their way to the Kresge Building.

“Aspirin, I have some wonderful news.  Last night, Agent Dunham and my son finally admitted their feelings for one another and have begun a relationship!” He said.

“What?  Walter, how could you possibly know that?’

“As you are aware, yesterday was Olivia’s birthday and last night Peter went over to her apartment to drop off our gifts.  When he returned home with the _Oreos_ that I’d requested, he seemed distracted and a bit frustrated.  I offered him some of my stash to help him relax but that only seemed to agitate him further.  Then around midnight, I heard him leave the hotel room, he must’ve thought I was already asleep since he didn’t say goodbye.  Anyway, I believe he drove back to Agent Dunham’s apartment and then this is what happened;”

_Knock.  Knock.  Knock._

_“Olivia, could you open the door?”_

_“Peter?  What are you doing here, did you forget something?”_

_“Yes, this,”_

_Peter ran through the threshold, grabbed Olivia’s face in his hands and kissed her with everything he had.  Olivia was momentarily taken aback by his actions and froze, but then kissed him back.  After a minute or so, the couple pulled away slightly but never quite let go of each other._

_“Olivia, oh my dear Olivia, I have a confession to make,”_

_“Yes?”_

_“I’m tired of lying, I am absolutely head over heels in love with you!  I have been since that day we met in Iraq and over this passed this year, I have only grown to love you more!  You may think I’m insane for telling you all of this now, but I simply cannot take all of this holding back anymore.  I’ve wanted to tell you for so long but I was afraid.  Afraid that you would turn me down.  Afraid that you’d think of me as a fool.  Afraid that you would deem me worthless and throw me out of your life for good.  Honestly, I’m still afraid that you’ll do all of those things, but frankly I don’t give a damn anymore.  I love you with all of my heart and it’s time that you knew that.”_

_“Oh Peter!  Why on Earth didn’t you say anything before?  I love you, too!  I love you with a burning passion of one thousand suns! Even when I was technically still with John Scott, the moment we met, I felt something that I couldn’t describe and still can’t.  The moment you helped me into the tank decided I would end things with him as soon as he healed so that you and I could be together!  Yet when he died I was so overwhelmed with grief and felt too guilty to pursue anything with you.  I’ve wanted to tell you the feelings I’ve had for so long, but I was too scared that you never felt the same.”_

_“You were wrong, I was wrong.  Hell, we were both wrong, but that’s okay!  Now we know how we feel for each other and that’s all that matters,”_

_“Oh, Peter! I love you so much!”_

_“I love you too, Olivia Dunham!”_

_They passionately kissed again and soon one thing led to another…_

“And then they walked hand in hand to her bedroom and began their lustful night of-”

“Okay, Walter that’s enough!  I get it, I sincerely doubt that’s what happened, but whatever, it’s none of our business.”

“Of course it is our business, we have to work with them every day, don’t we?  Imagine how much easier it will be to be around the two of them with all of that oppressive sexual tension gone?”

“You have a point, but we still don’t have any confirmation that what you’ve said actually happened-”

“But it did happen!  Why else would Peter not come home last night?”

“I don’t know, but if something did actually happen, then that’s up to Peter and Olivia if they want us to know.”

“I suppose you’re right, Afro.  Oh, can we stop at the grocery store to pick up some celebratory cake mix, this is after all a very special occasion.”  He pleaded.

 

“Maybe later, but right now we need to get to the lab.” Astrid said and pulled into the Harvard parking lot.

* * *

 

Olivia Dunham was having a very uneventful day.  It was her first time working at the Federal Building since Charlie died, and to say that being back was painful would be a tremendous understatement.  His desk which used to sit just five paces from her office, was now no more than a barren slab of wood with a chair.  Every bit of his personal artifacts had been cleared and even his old computer had been confiscated as evidence.  Any trace of Charlie Francis was long gone and to Olivia, that thought hurt more than being stabbed in the chest 100 times. 

In truth, she’d been avoiding going back for as long as she could for that very reason.  However, she knew she’d have to face the music at some point and today was just as good as any other.  Although, now she was regretting that decision vehemently, especially since Peter was gone for a few days and she wouldn’t have any one to really talk to about this.  At least if he were here, then she would be able to distract herself from the grief for a little bit.

While she was reviewing old reports, she couldn’t help but think back to the night before.  She really did have a nice time with him, even if it had gotten a bit uncomfortable.  As much as she tried to ignore it, she’d been harboring questionable thoughts of him for a few while now, and it wouldn’t be long until they began to bubble their way to the surface. Their interaction last night only made her more aware of that fact.

In a word, she was fucked.

And with that final thought ringing through her head, her cell phone began to buzz.

“Dunham,” She answered.

“Good, one of you finally picked up!”  Walter’s voice drifted through the phone.

“Well hello to you too, Walter,” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“What kind of frosting do you prefer?  Chocolate or vanilla?”

“What?”

“I suppose strawberry could be an option, however I figured we would reserve that flavor for the milkshakes.  But if you insist on having strawberry filled festivities, then I won’t stop you.”

“Festivities?  Walter, if you are trying to plan something for my birthday, please don’t.  It was yesterday and we don’t need to celebrate something that’s already passed-”

“Oh don’t be silly, my dear!  That’s not the occasion at all!  Speaking of which, how are you today?”

“Um, fine, I guess.”

“I’d imagine you are more than fine.  However, with all that’s happened, I’d assume that you’re also probably pretty tired.  Exertion like that would cause even the best of athletes to be worn out.”

“Worn out?” Olivia asked skeptically.

“Don’t worry, the secret of your fatigue is safe with me!  When you come by the lab, I’ll give you a chart of foods I’ve proved that help increase stamina and decrease exhaustion.”

“Stamina? Walter, what are you-”

“Oh, and one more thing before I forget.  Are you on any sort if birth control?  And if so what type?  Not that I’d mind if you fell pregnant, actually I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope for that to happen.  It’s just with the jobs that you two have and since you’ve only just begun your relationship, I don’t know if giving me a grandchild right now would be best.”

Grandchildren? What?

“Walter, stop!” Olivia snapped into the receiver and shut the door of her office to avoid any potential eavesdroppers.

“Why?  I’m not saying that condoms don’t work, it’s just that we Bishop men have tendency to defy certain methods of protection.” Walter said defensively.

“Yes, I understand that part.  Now will you please explain to me what you’re talking about?”

“Your night with Peter, of course!  Hence, why I’m asking what type of frosting you’d like.  Antiperspirant and I are at the store right now picking up ingredients for a cake, and the coming together of you two deserves a celebration.  So have you decided what flavor you want?  Oh and Olivia, will you please tell Peter to call me after I get off the phone with you?  I understand that he may be embarrassed to admit his recent success in the love making department; but that is no reason to ignore all of his father’s calls.”

At this point, Olivia was beyond confused.  What on Earth was he talking about?  Why had he assumed that she and Peter slept together?  More importantly, why didn’t Walter know where Peter was?  There was no reason for him not to just leave Walter without explanation, especially now that their relationship was much less strained.  The whole situation wasn’t making any sense.

“Walter, Peter did not spend the night with me.”

“But of course he did-”

“No, he didn’t.  What made you think otherwise?”

There was silence on the other line for several moments before Walter spoke again.

“You mean to tell me that my son isn’t with you?” He asked in a distraught voice.

“He didn’t tell you?  Apparently, he’s helping a friend move.  At least that’s what he texted me late last night.  He honestly didn’t tell you?”  She asked.

“He said nothing of the sort, he didn’t even pack a bag!  Agent Dunham, what if something happened to him?”

“Now, we don’t know that-”

“What if that Mob Boss, Large Edward, got him?!”

“Walter, Walter, please calm down.  I’m on my way to the lab now, alright?  I’ll be there in fifteen.”  And with that, Olivia hung up the phone.

 

What the hell was going on?

* * *

 

The first time Peter Bishop had technically been interrogated, he was eleven years old and had set off firecrackers in the public library.  The cops were frustrated, but had all in all been pretty lenient with him, he only had to pay a fine.  The second time, he was sixteen and stole a case of beer from a convenient store.  The cops and his mother were less than thrilled and he’d been arrested for the first time.  After that he’d been interrogated several more times by both sides of the law for getting caught doing stupid shit.

It was only after he’d managed to get himself shot in the shoulder, that he learned his lesson on being careful.  As a result, it had been at least four or five years since he was last interrogated.  However, no matter how many he’d been through it, they never really did stop being scary.

If Peter were honest with himself, he was terrified right now.

Yet he never let it show.

“Now are you gonna talk, or do I have to persuade you again?”  Chris asked.

“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that if you want me to talk,” Peter smirked as he leaned over and spit out some of the blood which had been pooling in his mouth.

That remark earned him a fist in his left eye.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Bishop.  But you’re making it very difficult for me not to lose my temper when you keep on giving me shit like that.  Honestly, how’s my little girl managed to put up with you for a year?”

“What can I say, I make her laugh,”

The next blow he received was a kick in the chest, cracking a few ribs on the way.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.  Tell me, have you gotten the bitch to spread her legs for ya yet?  Have you tasted her?  Have you felt her squirm and writhe while you pound into her over and over while she cries ‘more, oh God, more’ until you’re both spent?  Well, don’t be shy, have you?”

“Stop it,” Peter growled.

“Huh, I’ll be damned.  The slut hasn’t taken you to bed after all.  Fuck, I’m sorry to hear that.  I would o’ thought you’d be ridin’ her at least twice a day, especially given her history.  Seriously, I think she’s fucked every partner she’s ever had, I’m shocked that you haven’t hit that-”

“Shut up!”

“Oh, I’ve struck a nerve, haven’t I?  You carry a bit of a torch for her, don’t you?  She makes you feel warm and fuzzy whenever you’re around her?  I bet after every time you see her, you have to go and rub one out in the shower like a horny teenager.  Hell, I bet you had to do it last night before you came down to the bar.”

Peter stayed silent and looked at the ground.

Chris kneeled in front of him

“You can try all you want, Peter, but you ain’t fooling me.  You’re scared and you care a lot more about her then you’re trying to let on.  You know, at the end of the day, that’s gonna be you’re downfall.  And guess what else?  I’d be willing to bet money that she feels the same about you and that’s exactly why this is going to work.”  He chuckled.

“What’s going to work, asshole?”

 Chris slapped him, hard.

  “You’re going to lead my little princess right to me, Peter.  Getting excited, yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Once again, I’m really sorry that my updates have been really spotty lately, I really am going to try and get better about them. As always, make sure to leave a review, even if you hated it!


	6. Girl with the Broken Smile  Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Could it be? I updated twice in the same month? Blasphemy! As always, I do not own Fringe or the song “Feeling Good”!  
> Enjoy!

Girl with the Broken Smile Chapter 6

  
The more Olivia thought about the Peter situation, the more confused she became. After Walter’s distressed phone call, it became very apparent that there was no friend that needed help moving. While she wished that she was wrong, she couldn’t deny the evidence that was becoming clear as day; Peter had lied… Or there was something more serious going on. Either way, it wasn’t looking good.  Before she’d left her apartment that morning, she’d made sure to grab the CD Peter had gifted her the previous night and add it to her now growing collection in her car. She hadn’t thought much of it when she popped it into the player earlier, but now the music wafting through the stereo wasn’t offering the slightest bit of comfort.

  
_“Birds flying high_   
_You know how I feel_   
_Sun in the sky_   
_You know how I feel_   
_Reeds driftin' on by_   
_You know how I feel”_

  
He could’ve gone back to gambling, her inner voice sneered. In truth, it was a viable option. However, even if he had, Peter was a good liar and knew how to be inconspicuous. If he was trying to cover something up, he wouldn’t have been this sloppy. No, she decided, he wasn’t gambling again and it probably wasn’t a con for that matter. Olivia knew more than anyone that he’d shut the door of his questionable past tight and thrown away the key. He was a better man now, a man she was proud to call her partner and confidant. The Kresge building soon came into view and Olivia made her way to the parking lot. She needed to talk to Walter, now.

  
_“It's a new dawn_   
_It's a new day_   
_It's a new life_   
_For me_   
_And I'm feeling good”_

  
No, she disagreed with the song, she was not feeling good about this.

  
Not one bit.

  
_FringeFringeFringe(insert glyph)FringeFrinegFringe_

  
“Walter, stop! Getting upset right now won’t help anyone,” Olivia overheard Astrid say through the door.

  
Her arrival went unnoticed; Walter was an absolute wreck, clutching his hair and frantically walking all over the lab. Astrid, on the other hand, was desperately trying in vain to get him to calm down. Since joining Fringe Division, Olivia had seen Walter in various stages of panic before, but this… This was nothing short of pure hysteria. He didn’t even seem to be able to register any of what Astrid was saying, just constantly pacing back and forth and muttering indistinguishable words under his breath.

  
It was pitiful.

  
“Hey,” Olivia called once she couldn’t take the unraveling scene anymore.

  
“Agent Dunham! Any word from Peter?” Walter desperately asked as he ran to her.

  
“Nothing yet, I tried his cell phone a few times on the way over and he never answered.” She replied.

“Something’s happened to him, I can feel it!”

“Walter, we don’t know anything yet now will you please-”

  
“Exactly! We know nothing! He could be lying in a ditch somewhere and we’d never even realize it until it was too late!”

  
“Do you want me to call Broyles?” Astrid piped up.

  
“No, not until we have anything solid. We need to be sure that something has in fact happened before we get the FBI involved. For now, we should keep trying to get in touch with Peter. If we don’t hear from him after 4 hours, then we’ll call Broyles.” Olivia said, although her spiel did little to calm Walter’s nerves. After a few minutes of arguing with him, Olivia stepped into her office, needing a break from the chaos. After a couple minutes of doing a few yoga breaths she pulled out her phone.

  
“Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up,” She whispered into the receiver.

  
“You’ve reached Peter Bishop, this better be good. Beep.”

  
Dammit!

  
She dialed again.

  
Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up.

  
_FringeFringeFringe(insert glyph)FringeFringeFringe_

  
“How ‘bout we take a break, my arm is getting a bit tired.”

  
“If you insist,” Peter panted. Although he down played it as much as he could, Peter was relieved. For the past however many hours he’d been locked in the room, Chris had really done a number on him. His lip was split, his left eye was nearly swollen shut, a few of his ribs were definitely cracked, and he strongly suspected that he had a mild concussion. Despite being about seven or so years younger than his father, Chris could really pack a punch. If this was how much damage he could do as an older man, Peter didn’t even want to think about what he was capable of twenty years ago.

  
“So’d Olivia ever tell you about our time together when she was a kid?” Chris asked as he pulled up a chair and sat in front of him.

  
“She may have mentioned it once or twice,” Peter said.

  
“Is that so? How much did she tell you?”

  
“Enough,”

  
“I’d be willing to bet every penny in my name that she only told you about half,”

  
“What are you getting at?"

  
“You know Olivia, one could say that she’s a bit selective about how much she’s willing to spill,”

  
“Why are you so sure she hasn’t told you everything?” Peter countered.

  
“I’ve been watching you for a year now, Peter. Given the way you look at my little girl, you’d have torn me apart the second you knew who I was.” Chris chuckled darkly

.  
“And who says I don’t want to do that already?”

  
Chris leaned forward and flashed Peter a sinister smile.

  
“You know what? I think I should enlighten you on a few details sweet Olive may have left out. Originally, I wasn’t going to tell you, but now, I think a story may do you some good,”

  
“Wouldn’t count on it,”

  
“Well for starters, she didn’t always hate me. No sir, in fact it wasn’t until after I became part of the Dunham household that her opinion changed. I remember the day I met Olivia and her sister. I’d only been with Marilyn for a few weeks or so when it became very clear how desperate she was for a man in her life. I came over for dinner one night and met the girls. Olivia was probably around six or so and I remember thinking ‘my God, she’s perfect’, which was strange since before that moment, wasn’t exactly fond of kids. So that night, I did what any guy trying to impress a pretty girl would do, made her laugh and showed her a magic trick or two. Marilyn told me later after she’d put the girls to bed that little Olive hadn’t laughed like that since before her father died.”

  
Peter turned his head away, he didn’t want to hear anymore. Yet Chris continued as if his captor was listening intently.

  
“I came over a bunch after that and Olivia learned to be comfortable around me, once she even decided to show me how good she was at reading. Although, it confused and surprised her when I stopped being “Mommy’s good friend Chris” and instead became “Daddy”. In a way, that was probably what kick started her negative opinion of me. But it didn’t form into full on hatred until I ‘corrected’ her mother for the first time,”

  
“I’ve heard that part of the story,”

  
“Figured as much, she probably blamed it on the booze as well, when actually, it was only about half or it. Do you wanna know why I drank so much?”

  
“Not particularly,”

  
“You see,” Chris began. “Shortly after I met the girls, started having these feelings, thoughts… _urges_ about little Olive.”

  
Peter’s head snapped up.

  
“That got your attention, didn’t it?” Chris chuckled in enjoyment at Peter’s horrified expression.

  
“Any way, where was I? Oh yes, the drinking. At first, the thoughts scared me, as you can probably imagine. I knew it was unnatural for a grown man to be thinking such things about a little girl, yet I couldn’t help it. However, the more I tried to repress them, the stronger the urges would become. Before long, I was blowing through a case or two of beer a day just to deal with the guilt. But wouldn’t you know, getting shitfaced everyday did nothing to get rid of my little problem. If anything, it made it stronger. And after about a year or so, I didn’t feel bad about it at all. I figured I’m going to hell anyway, might as well enjoy the ride, if you know what I mean. Well, Olive was getting older and prettier; as some would say, she became the apple of my eye. Of course she was always stubborn as hell and from time to time, I’d need to ‘correct’ her. However, no matter how much of a brat she’d be, she never stopped being a fixation for me.”

  
Behind his back, Peter clenched his fists tightly.

  
“I wanted her, bad. And you know what else? It was the littlest things that would really get my blood flowing; the way her lips would stain after eating cheap candy, the flash of her eyes after I’d correct her or Marilyn, _the smell of her hair_ …” He inhaled deeply for emphasis. “All of that and more! Olivia was a perfect little princess, and above all, she was all mine.”

  
That was enough, Peter didn’t know how much more of Chris’s fucked up tale he could handle before he got sick.

  
“When she was about eight or nine; just looking and whacking one off wasn’t enough anymore. So once in a while, I’d let myself indulge a bit. And as she got older, God, it got so much better! Fuck, I’m getting hot just remembering it. Tell me, Peter, do you think the skin between her thighs is still as soft as it was twenty years ago?” He winked.

  
“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Peter shouted. All coherent thought left his brain as he fiercely struggled against the think wire that bound him to the cold metal chair. He was going to kill this sadistic bastard even if it was the last thing he ever did.

  
“Alright, Peter. Now I just spilled my guts to you. Don’t you think it’s time you do the same for me?”

  
“Not a chance, asshole.”

  
“Shame,”

  
And with that final word, he got up and kicked over Peter’s chair. Satisfied with the sickening crack of his head against the cold floor, Chris bent over and checked Peter’s pulse. Sure enough, he was still alive.

  
_Silly boy_ , he thought and turned to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! I’m midway through drafting chapter 7 so it should be up soon:) Also, I’m having a formatting issue with the page breaks so I hope you don’t mind the ones that I improvised. As always, please make sure to drop a review, even if you hated it! I live for all of your thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Can I just say that you guys are the best readers ever for not giving up on me even though I take forever to update???? I wasn’t lying when I said I had already begun drafting the next chapter, it’s just that traveling internationally for extended periods makes juggling writing and trying to catch up with school and graduate a bit challenging:/ Despite that, I now have mapped out completely how I want to end this story and there will probably be about 3(ish) more chapters. We’re in the home stretch, ladies and gentlemen  
> Any way here’s long overdue chapter 7. I do not own Fringe.  
> Enjoy!

Girl with the Broken Smile Chapter 7

By the time Peter came to he was upright and alone. He felt sick to his stomach, although he wasn’t sure if it had more to do with what he’d just heard or his festering concussion. Either one was a viable option, however he had a feeling that the latter was the culprit. He’d it his head pretty hard again when the chair had been kicked over and fallen unconscious. It hurt like hell and he wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been out.

Could’ve been minutes.

Could’ve been hours.

Frankly, he didn’t care.

“Shit,” He breathed out into the dark and dank room.

Peter didn’t know what to think. Hell, he could barely wrap his head around the implications of what Chris had told him. Fucked up would be putting it too mild. Honestly, he supposed he shouldn’t have been that surprised. He’d been friends with Olivia for over a year now and from the very first time she’d confided in him about her sadistic stepfather, he’d always had a bit of an inkling that there was a little more to the story. He never brought it up with her directly, but as he sat in that room with nothing but his thoughts, he recalled a memory from just over a month ago.

_FringeFringeFringe(Insert Glyph)FringeFringeFringe_

_When Peter arrived at Olivia’s hospital room, he’d found her propped up on a few pillows talking with Rachel and Ella. Dammit, he thought, I should’ve called. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her family, on the contrary he liked them quite a bit. Rachel was hilarious and outgoing while Ella was nothing short of adorable. Almost like his surrogate niece. It was just at that moment, he felt like an intruder. He got to spend nearly every day with Olivia, not that he was complaining, while her real family were lucky if they saw her a few times a month. He thought about leaving and coming back in a few hours or so when Ella spotted him._

_“Uncle Peter!” Ella exclaimed, causing Olivia and Rachel to look up._

_“Hey kiddo!” Peter said as he stepped through the doorway. Ella hopped off her perch on Olivia’s bed and ran into Peter’s arms._

_“What are you doing here?” She asked, looking up at him._

_“Well, I was worried that your aunt here would be pretty lonely and bored so I was coming to keep her company. Although, now I see that I was mistaken.”_

_“Actually, you had perfect timing because El ad I were just about to leave,” Rachel piped up. “But Mom!” “Ah ah ah, no buts. Now say bye to Aunt Liv and Uncle Peter.”_

_“See you soon, baby girl.” Olivia said, reaching to give her niece a hug and a kiss._

_“_ _I’ll call you tomorrow, let me know if you need anything.” Rachel said._

_“I will, thanks for coming, Rach.”_

_“Absolutely, oh and think about what I said.”_

_“I don’t know, Rach-”_

_“Just promise that you’ll think about it. That’s all I ask. Bye Peter, nice follower by the way,” She nodded at the bouquet in his left hand. “You never see white tulips much,”_

_“Ah well, you know me. Conventionalities aren’t exactly my cup of tea.” He said. In actuality, Peter didn’t have the slightest clue as to why he’d picked those flowers for Olivia. His mom had always liked them, he supposed. He had a vague memory of riding in the backseat of their old Vista Cruiser, staring out the window into a field of them as she’d gone on and on about how some scientist had genetically engineered them to grow in the area. Where had they been? Georgia maybe? Didn’t matter. He remembered passing that field, for a brief moment thinking it looked like snow. And now, for whatever reason, he associated White Tulips with Olivia Dunham._

_“I’ll see you later, Peter. Come on, El.” Rachel said. With a final squeeze of his arm and a not so subtle wink to her sister, Rachel Dunham was out the door and around the corner with her reluctant daughter in tow. “_

_Hey,” Olivia finally said._

_“Hey, where do you want these?” Peter asked, motioning to the tulips. “Bedside table near the window should be fine,” He placed them down then sat in the chair by her bed that Rachel had recently vacated. For a while they just talked. Naturally, Olivia asked about work and Peter told her about how he’d started house hunting for a more permanent residence for him and Walter._

_“So what’s Rachel trying to sway you into doing now?” Peter asked. “You mean what she mentioned on her way out?” Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, please tell me it’s another obscure online dating thing,” He winked._

_“_ _Very funny. No, it wasn’t anything important.” “Ah, so you admit that human companionship is in fact important in life and society,”_

_“Shut up, you’re one to talk.”  She scoffed._

_“You might be surprised, Dunham. Now come one, what did she want?” “Peter-” “It can’t be that bad. Whatever it is, I promise I won’t make fun of you for- well if it’s the dating thing then I might for a little bit.”_

_She rolled her eyes._

_“So are you going to tell me or not?” He asked._

_Olivia’s smile faded and she looked down at her hands. After a moment she sighed. “I’m turning 30 in a few weeks,” She said, still not meeting his eyes._

_“Oh,” Peter said, his joking expression gone._

_“Rachel wants to do something big; go to a bar, invite a bunch of people and such.”_

_“Does she know about…” He trailed off. “As far as she knows, he died of a heart attack seven years ago.”_

_“You’ve kept this from her for seven years? ‘Livia are you serious?”_

_“What else was I supposed to do?” She snapped, looking up at him. “Rachel was pregnant and worried that he’d come after her and the baby. I’d just graduated from the academy so I told her I was able to pull some strings and get his medical records. In the end, I told her what she needed to hear and now she can go to bed at night without worrying about who’s lurking in the dark. Believing that he won’t come after her.”_

_“Why are you so sure he wouldn’t though? You said it yourself, he lives to torment.”_

_“He wouldn’t. He’d never once gone after her when we lived with him. Sure, he would be harsh, but he never touched her.” “Just you then,” Peter said with a clenched jaw._

_“Just me,” She chuckled without an ounce of humor in her voice. “So you can see why I’m opposed to having something big. He could easily slip in- God, if he found Ella-” She stopped abruptly, biting her lip._

_One of her few tells._

_“If he found Ella, what?”_

_“Can we please stop talking about this?”_

_“_ _’Livia, what would her do if he found Ella?”_

_Olivia closed her eyes, took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak when suddenly a nurse walked in._

_“_ _Miss Dunham, I got an alert that your heart rate escalated quite rapidly. Is everything alright in here?” She asked, throwing Peter an accusatory glare._

_“Yup, everything’s fine.” She said._

_"Well, I’m going to need to check your vitals anyway.”_

_“Really, I’m fine.” She insisted._

_The nurse wasn’t convinced and checked Olivia’s blood pressure._

_“You’re scheduled to be discharged tomorrow, correct?” She asked. “_

_Yes, ma’am.” Olivia said. “_

_I’m registered to pick her up,” Peter said._

_“Hmph, well everything seems to be normal. Just buzz down to the nurse’s station if you need something or if” she glared at Peter “anything is bothering you.” And without another word, she walked out. “_

_Jesus, did you cut the woman off on your way here?” Olivia asked as soon as the nurse was out of earshot._

_“Maybe she encountered Walter once before I could stop him. He’s had a bit of an infatuation with larger women these days and she’s just about his type.”_

_Olivia chuckled and Peter smiled before the memory of what they were talking about before the nurse walked in caught up._

_“Listen, Olivia-”_

_“Could you leave it alone for now, Peter? Please?” She pleaded._

_“Fine, whenever you’re ready, I’m here. Okay?”_

_“Okay,” “I should probably get going. I can only leave Walter unattended for so long, right?” He joked. “True, you remember what time you’re coming tomorrow to pick me up?”_

_“_ _Yup, 10:00. Sound good?”_

_“Sounds perfect,” She smiled._

_“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dunham.”_

_FringeFringeFringe(InsertGlyph)FringeFringeFringe_

She had been close.  So close to telling him the truth before fucking Nurse Jackie sauntered on in, staring daggers at him. That moment, Peter could see the fear written plain as day on her face. Now that psychopath was here, in Boston, planning to do God knows what to Olivia. And yet all Peter could do was sit trapped in a dark and dank room, and wait. Wait to die. Wait to live. Wait for the end. He hung his throbbing head. He’d failed her. He’d failed her and now she was going to pay the price. The creaking of what sounded like a nearby door snapped Peter into attention. His stomach seemed to drop to his toes as he heard the signature sound of footsteps on old wood. The tell-tale sounds could only mean one thing, Chris was back. Color drained from his face, his heart rate skyrocketed, and the initial nausea he was feeling increased by ten-fold. The worst part however, was the eerie quite that started as soon as the footsteps stopped.  Peter took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he waited for Chris’s arrival.

“Peter?” Olivia’s voice rang out in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dun dun duh! I know, I’m evil. Thank you so much for reading, make sure to drop a review, even if you hated it  Again, I really am sorry that this chapter took so long. It was partly due to the fact that my muse has decided to extend its hand to another fandom and wouldn’t let me work on this piece until I had written another… Speaking of which (here comes a shameless plug btw)… If you happen to be a part of “The Walking Dead” fandom, then please make sure to check out my new story “Seeking a Friend for the End of the World”.   
> Thanks again!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So that’s it for now. I’m debating on adding another chapter but for now it’s a one-shot. Anyway I hope you liked it. Don’t forget to drop a review and tell me what you think!


End file.
